


Golden

by vaguely_concerned



Series: Mer's Moving City 'verse [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguely_concerned/pseuds/vaguely_concerned
Summary: John and Rodney spend a lazy morning in bed.





	

Rodney sat leaned back against the headboard, going through some of the new data he’d managed to tease out from Janus’s lab. It made his head spin, leading his brain down new, unexplored paths no one had known to walk for millennia – it was _amazing._

Another thing that was amazing was the new bed. While their improvised mattress slash blanket fort creation had borne witness to most of Rodney’s fondest memories, he had to admit that owning a bed frame somehow made him feel like he was at least pretending to be a responsible adult in some way.

From where he was lying with his head in Rodney’s lap John hummed contentedly. Rodney brushed his crazy hair out of his eyes and ran a thumb over his eyebrow; John grinned, rubbing his face against Rodney’s hip.

”You’re such a slacker,” Rodney told him, inordinately amused by the sheer wallowing laziness he radiated as he soaked up the sunlight streaming down from the glass ceiling.

”’M like a panther,” John mumbled unconcernedly. ”Saving my strength for when I need to pounce.”

”I see. And what are you planning to pounce on, exactly?”

”Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He moved to run a hand over the inside of Rodney’s bare thigh. Rodney had a distinct feeling he was going to enjoy the pouncing. He chuckled.

”By all means, then, rest up. Restore some stamina.”

”Knew you’d come around to my point of view.”

Rodney put the tablet down. ”Oh, you know what they say. The way to a man’s heart is through his di – ”

”Whoa there, Dr. McKay.” He added, in his most obnoxious imitation of Rodney’s voice: ”Ph.D, Ph.D.”

Rodney petted John’s hair. ”You’re incredibly persuasive that way, is what I’m getting at. And you’ll never let that one go, will you.”

”Nope.” John arched slightly into the touch like every cat Rodney had ever owned, the sheets slipping down his hips as he stretched. He had rounded out a little in the last few years - not that he was actually _round,_ Rodney was pretty sure John was going to stay a slouching beanpole until their dying day and he was perfectly okay with that - but there was a softness around the edges now, less of the drawn back knife blade of a man badly hidden beneath drawling lassitude that Rodney remembered.

Back when John had stumbled into the city for the first time he’d been thin in that hard, stripped-down way you got when you were tall and lean to begin with, like someone who’s been carved away from the inside - all sharp, angular lines under that shock of dark hair and he always held himself as if fighting off a chill, shoulders raised and arms crossed over his chest. He’d been beautiful, of course - a laconic, unapproachable thing coming in from the cold.

In the golden light pouring through the city’s windows, Rodney was immensely grateful for _his_ John, haphazardly sprawled over the bed like, well, like a cat who’s still the terror of the neighborhood but eats well at home.

John made a confused rumbling sound at Rodney’s hand no longer stroking through his hair. He’d gone to the trouble of cracking an eye open, squinting up at Rodney.

 “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Rodney said. “Absolutely nothing.”

After a second of thought John gave a cheery ’ If you say so’ shrug and turned his face to kiss Rodney’s stomach.

For a long time Rodney sat there staring into the air. The mark on John’s chest was faded now. Once it had almost killed him and now you probably couldn’t even tell it was there unless you knew to look.

”Hey, John.”

”Hm?”

”I love you.” Rodney didn’t say it that often, because John usually got a look in his eyes like a hunted animal when he did, and it was not as though it was news, but... well, sometimes Rodney just needed to know that John knew.

John was quiet for a while, then picked up Rodney’s hand and brushed a kiss to his knuckles – which was all the answers Rodney would ever need in one.

He looked down at John’s head in his lap, with that feeling that wasn’t magic only because it was too real filling his chest.

”Hey, you two, stop canoodling for a minute,” the city broke in after a while. ”Do you have any idea where the salamanders are?”

Rodney looked at John, who looked back with a guilty grimace. ”I thought you – ”

”Didn’t you say you’d already – ”

The city said tersely: ”Well, _I_ know where they are, because they’re in my green house. _Nibbling_ my _azaleas_.”

”Whoops,” John said, fumbling for his trousers over the edge of the bed. ”We’ll get on that right away, sorry.”

Ever since they’d brought in some other salamanders – because Rodney thought it would be best if the little guy had someone his own species to play with – they had been roving the city like a band of tiny, extremely cute and intrepid explorers, leaving coal dust and light property damage in their wake.

”You better,” the city said. ”Or I’m turning off all the hot water for a week. I worked on those for ages.”

Rodney sighed. ”Yes, yes, yes, we get it, on our way. Hey, John, hang on.” John made an inquisitive noise, half-way into his t-shirt with the collar caught on his ear. ”Just need to...”

He kneeled up on the bed to rub his face against John’s chest, nosing through the curly hair to find a nipple and licking around it sweetly, grinning as John yelped. Then he curved his hands around John’s ribs, closed his eyes and softly pressed his lips against the marks trailing in towards that point a little to the left of his breast bone. John finished shrugging into the t-shirt and cupped the back of Rodney’s head in his hand, stroking his hair.

”Rodney.”

”There,” Rodney said, slowly pulling back and then nuzzling in for one last kiss because he couldn’t help himself. ”Okay, now we can go.”

They padded out into the hallway, setting off towards the greenhouse. 

The city made a thoughtful sound and lightened considerably. ”Now that I think about it – do you think salamander dung mixed into the soil could produce interesting mutations in – ”

Rodney glanced over at John, both their long-suffering expressions melting into grins because you’d have to be completely heartless not to warm to the enthusiasm in the city’s voice, no matter what madness it was currently spouting.

”You should give it a try,” John said. ”What’s the worst that could happen?”

”Well, they could catch fire in a spectacular way once they reach sexual maturity. But the course of true science never did run smooth, as we all know - nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

”Very true,” Rodney nodded sagely. ”If something doesn’t have a chance of blowing up at some point it’s barely science at all, really.”

John eyed him sideways. ”Riiiiight. Just make sure you have a fire extinguisher somewhere close by, then.”

The city hummed absently. ”Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say. This could actually work, you know – it would go down in occult botanical history as a revolutionary new approach, opening any manner of new directions to pursue. Or as the most explosive failure, I suppose. One or the other. Setting records either way! Very exciting.”

John stopped and rested his hands on his hips. ”Sometimes I worry that you two don’t take the potential unraveling of reality as we know it seriously.”

Rodney cheerfully threw his hands up. ”Hey, we know what we’re doing! In all the time you’ve known me, have I _ever_ accidentally ripped apart the fabric of time and space?”

John’s eyes narrowed. ”I don’t know. Have you?”

”Aaaanyway,” Rodney said, picking up the pace as he walked down the corridor, ”let’s go round up some salamanders, shall we?”

” _Rodney!_ ”

”Oh, don’t look at me like that, Sheppard, of course I haven’t. And if I had we would probably never know due to the recursive effects of – er. Not helping my case here, am I.”

With a deep sigh John caught up with him. ”I just had to choose the mad sorcerer, didn’t I.”

”I prefer ’innovative  thaumaturge’ myself.”

”I’m sure you do, Rodney. I’m sure you do.”

And they squabbled their way down the hallways, towards the new green heart of the city.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Everything concerning Fred the salamander is hereby dedicated to popkin16 (◡‿◡)


End file.
